In Your Arms
by blakeBird
Summary: Edward couldn't keep himself from trembling as he clutched his mouth even harder than before. This was it. This was how he was going to die;he was going to be tortured and killed. Despite everything he had done, everything he had been through, this was how it was going to end. He had failed his mission. He had failed himself. Most importantly, he had failed his brother.(Whumptober)


Hello, there!

So recently I found out that Whumptober is a thing.

A _great, incredible, amazing, beautiful_ thing. And I just _had_ to get my favorite characters in on the action.

So here I am. I'm going to try- keyword, _try_ \- to get in as many prompts as I can.

Today's prompt: stabbed

 **DISCLAIMER:**

 **This story contains graphic descriptions of** ** _blood, gore, death, and wounds._** **If you are sensitive to these subjects, do not read this story.**

* * *

The cliche that people didn't feel wounds, especially the light ones, because of adrenaline, was a lie. A lie that Edward Elric could attest to.

He was pretty sure he had never had more adrenaline in his system in his entire life, even with the number of fights and battles he had been in. But the pure fear pumping through his veins didn't stop him from feeling the sting of the dagger as it grazed across his cheek, or the pain searing through his flesh arm where he was sure he had torn something whenever he jostled it in a desperate attempt to avoid the knife chasing after him.

At the moment, he was tucked behind a pillar as a last resort to hide from his pursuer. It was one of the many times that he ached for the normal life that other thirteen-year-olds led. Normal kids his age wouldn't be clamping a hand over their mouth to muffle the sounds of their ragged breathing, they wouldn't be trembling and terrified that they were probably living their last moments on this earth in fear. They wouldn't be bleeding from the wounds that riddled their body. They wouldn't have their artificial limb laying across the room, broken and inoperable.

They wouldn't be going through any of it.

"Oh, blondie~!" A voice chipped from somewhere behind him, horrifyingly cheerful. "Come on out, I just want to see that smile of yours!" The words echoed throughout the building, reverberating eerily. It made Ed shudder because he _knew_. He knew that this man wasn't right. Something wasn't right with him and his mental state, and he knew that the man would kill him without a second thought. The man would kill him an enjoy it. He would stand and laugh over his disembodied corpse and laugh and _enjoy it_.

Nothing terrified him more.

"I'll help you smile, even. I'll carve it out for you, how does that sound~?" The voice was closer, as was the agonizing sound of the point of a knife being dragged against broken marble. Edward couldn't keep himself from trembling as he clutched his mouth with his injured arm even harder than before. This was it. This was how he was going to die. He was going to be tortured and killed. Despite everything he had done, everything he had been through, this was how it was going to end.

He had two options: wait for the man to find him and kill him, or attempt to escape and die trying. Because there was no rational way he was going to make it out. The exit was too far, and even if he could make it to the door, it was caved in. He couldn't perform alchemy, he didn't have a weapon, and he couldn't defend himself.

There was no escape.

None.

So the question came up again: wait and die or run and die?

The man's chuckling laughter and the grinding of the knife were what helped him make up his mind. There was no way he was going to sit in fear and listen to that monster, waiting for death. As gruesome as it was, he would rather get it over with. The buildup had to be so much worse than anything that man could do to him, right? Right...?

His eyes filled with tears. It had to be.

Again, anger engulfed him. He was so unbelievably furious at himself. It was his own fault that he wasn't a normal kid, it was his fault that he was in this situation, it was his fault that his brother was stuck in some shitty armor, and it was his fault that he would never be able to restore Al's body. He failed his promise. He was going to die knowing he had failed.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

A few tears slipped down his face unbidden as he slowly removed his hand from its position over his mouth. He took a shaky breath.

 _I'm sorry, Alphonse. Please forgive me._

A scream tore from his throat as he lunged out from behind the marble pillar, sprinting as fast as he could around the littered debris. Ed's eyes darted around the room as he ran, not sure at all of where he was going. But _damn it_ , where was he? Where did he go?! There was-

His frantic thoughts were cut off as he ran into something, _hard_.

 _Crap crap crap crap crap!_

The automail port in his shoulder took the fall, wires and exposed nerve endings meeting the hard concrete with such force that he let out a shrill, broken cry simply from the pain of it. His vision went black as he writhed on the ground, spine arching. It hurt like _nothing he had ever, ever felt before_. Even though he couldn't see, he faintly heard joyful laughter coming from above him. Breathing heavily through his teeth and feeling every pump of blood his heart gave underneath his skin, Edward blinked frantically to clear his vision, kicking madly to get away from the sound.

 _I ran straight into him!_

The blackness in his eyes cleared just enough so that he could make out the shape of a figure standing above him, something shiny and metallic in his hands. The boy's hands shook and he whimpered, both completely unrelated to pain or blood loss. _He was petrified._ This was how he was going to die, right there on the grimy store building's floor.

Suddenly the figure was on him, kneeling with Ed's chest between his legs. "Come to play~?" Edward heaved a dry sob, squirming underneath the man's weight. "Oh, still got some fire, do we?" He hummed in uncertainty, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I really don't want to kill you yet, though. I wanted to have some fun first," he pouted, teeth teasing his bottom lip. Then he smiled.

 _Smiled._

"I guess I still can." He began to tighten his grip, shifting downwards until he was almost sitting on the boy's knees.

"No! No, _no, no_!" Edward screeched, bucking and kicking underneath the man's legs. He knew what was coming, _he knew_. "No, _please!_ "

The thirteen-year-old didn't even have time to brace himself before there was the sound of a wild cackle and the searing pain of a knife barrelling into his thigh. Ed howled, vision darkening around the edges once again. The perpetrator yanked the weapon out, holding it up and examining the blood pasted to its silver exterior in the dim lighting. Blood gushed through the new wound, spilling stickily down the sides of his leg and warming his thigh. Edward gasped like a fish out of water, the pain shocking his entire system. Stars popped in his eyes and he begged himself to lose consciousness, _begged_ not to be aware of the torture that was happening to him.

The man slid the flat of the knife along his face, streaking blood across his cheek and humming in satisfaction. "Hmm, that was exactly what I wanted," he sighed. "But I'm afraid we're not quite done yet, Blondie~. How about this- you scream as _loud_ as you can while I carve up your lovely skin. That makes up a beautiful combination, doesn't it?" The man rotated his grip on the knife, searching with his eyes for a new place to cause injury. Edward could do nothing but lay there, barely conscious and trembling. The criminal raised the weapon up again, this time over his head. His eyes were fixed on Ed's stomach.

This was it.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away.

 _I'm so, so sorry, Alphonse._

Suddenly, there was a deafening _bang!_ and the man's body jerked violently off to the side, taking the pressure from his legs. Blood gushed from the wound on his leg, aggravated by the movement. Edward moaned, not moving, exhausted and in so much pain that he didn't even know how he was still awake. Head lolling to the side, he heard various shouts, barked orders, the cocking of guns, and the sound of ten pairs of boots avoiding debris. The boy barely heard it above the ringing and blood pumping in his ears, but one specific sound made his eyes groggily fly open, heart lifting.

It was the sound of clanking metal, a sound he knew so well.

It was Alphonse.

It was his brother.

"Al," he sputtered, voice dry and cracking.

"Brother!" The twelve-year-old boy in the large suit of armor was already by his side, crashing to his knees beside his bruised, broken, and bleeding brother. Edward was having trouble keeping his eyes in line, Al's large metal helmet floating in and out of focus. It didn't matter though, because _oh my God I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm not going to die, oh my God._

"Alphonse," Ed choked, tears brimming in his eyes, tears he was desperately trying to bite back.

"Brother, oh my God. Okay, okay, um... It's going to be okay, brother, just hold on for a few minutes," Alphonse stuttered, his voice quaking. He supported the back of his older brother's head with his large gauntlet, afraid to touch him but visibly aching to pull him into an embrace. Ed could only imagine what he looked like, and he honestly would rather not know what Alphonse was seeing and just how scared the younger boy was. He didn't know if he could handle that right then, he couldn't take one more single thing. If he did he was sure that he was going to break into a million pieces because he was barely holding himself together as it was.

Al was shouting panicked words to some people that Ed couldn't see, frantic. There were words flying all around him and it made his head spin, trying to understand them. Suddenly there were big armored arms scooping him up, supporting behind his back and knees, and he could just barely make out the words, "Sorry, I'm sorry, brother, just hold on for a second- I'm sorry."

Then they were moving, to where Edward did know. All he did know was that there was a cool breeze on his face and the dim light of a sunset in his eyes, something that snapped him back into reality instead of the pain and terror-filled daze he had been trapped in.

He could finally process what had happened.

He could finally clear his head and _feel_.

And it broke him.

His heart thundered in his chest and his entire body shook like a leaf because _I almost just died, I almost just died!_ Ed could feel his entire body ache and throb with every pump of blood running through him. He could feel the frayed nerves of his ruined shoulder sending pain like lightning bolts down his entire right side. He could feel something warm around the wound on his thigh, a wound that felt like it had struck bone. He felt the knee-shaped bruise across his abdomen and how it hurt to breathe, like one of his ribs was cracked. He felt the stinging of his eyes as he tried to hold back a flood of tears, which he knew would never stop once it started.

 _And it broke him._

"Al-Alphonse," the thirteen-year-old gasped, voice breaking. His fingers scrambled to clutch at his brother's armor, needing something to ground him. Ed tried to speak again, but all that came out was a low whine that was clogged with emotion.

"It's okay brother," the boy squeaked shakily, trying not to look at the blood smearing against his body, dripping all over the sidewalk. "It's okay, the ambulance is almost here." He looked down the street frantically, leaning in to get a better view. "Just hold on for a few minutes, okay?"

Edward choked on a sob, tears finally spilling from behind his golden lashes. "I-I... almost... I didn't- I didn't..." His voice was choked and strangled, caught in the whirlwind of emotions inside of himself.

"N-No," Alphonse said, voice trembling. "Don't speak brother, you don't have to speak." He was crying. He had no tear ducts, had no eyes, had _no body,_ but he was crying. Anyone could have seen it. "I know, b-brother." The younger boy pulled him ever-so-slightly closer, brushing the tears and freshly-wet blood from his face with his large gauntlet. He was so, so bitter. He was so grieved. He ached to feel what his brother was feeling, ached for himself to understand and cope with Ed. But he couldn't. He wished he could feel the terror and the pain and the _fear that he was going to die,_ but his body didn't allow it. And he was scared. _Terrified_. He had almost lost his last living relative, his last hope, one of the only people he truly _loved_ in this world.

He was so scared. So bitter. And left feeling so, _so_ helpless.

"Al-Alphonse," Ed whimpered, "I-I'm so... sorry."

"Don't be, brother, please," the younger boy begged, now resorting to brushing back unkempt golden bangs. "I love you." The phrase slipped out so easily, so fast that he almost didn't hear himself say it. So he repeated it again, just to be sure. "I love you, brother."

The shriek of sirens sounded in the distance.

"I love you too," Ed whispered, eyes fixed on the darkening horizon. He was safe now. He was okay. And he was in his brother's arms. That was all he needed.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ THIS A/N**

So you may be thinking, "How OOC is this, Edward Elric would have a game plan and wouldn't be petrified like a little kid- he wouldn't _cry_ , that's not in his character!"

 **But he _is_ a little kid.** He's thirteen. The situation I wrote was enough to give a grown man issues for the rest of his life. **And Edward is a child.** Please don't forget that. He is young, scared, and allowed to cry. Even if he is projected as a tough-guy character, **he is allowed to feel weak, allowed to feel scared, and allowed to cry.** I wanted to put that message into a story. Even the toughest characters can be fragile. I got part of the idea for this in the Barry the Chopper episode of the 2003 series, so this isn't really incredibly far-fetched. I wrote this as it being one of Ed's closest moments with death, so he's meant to be severely shaken up. I've seen people criticize him for showing emotion, and even though he's not technically "real," I still want to defend this poor smol bean.

And also, I would have loved to give him-life threatening injuries, but then there wouldn't be any time for that good, brotherly fluff action that makes me so soft :,(

AND ED MY BABY BOY I'M SO SORRY T-T

I just love him too much for him not to get stabbed and traumatized?

Just a reminder: constructive criticism is always welcomed!

I know that the ending was rushed and unresolved, but 2.6k was pushing the limits of a one-shot so I figured I needed to wrap it up pretty fast.

IF YOU WANT MORE STUFF LIKE THIS, I HAVE YOUR BACK. Check out my other whumptober one-shots and (i hope) you won't be disappointed, they will be posted soon.

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY, YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING.


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